


Sand and Blood

by Orcish



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Beach Sex, M/M, Murder Husbands, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 11:20:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4704206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orcish/pseuds/Orcish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will clutches Hannibal closer. He has time for a moment of regret before they hit the hard water and sink into cold darkness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sand and Blood

The vertigo from the fall is a shock. Will clutches Hannibal closer. He has time for a moment of regret before they hit the hard water and sink into cold darkness.

\---

Will comes to feeling like a giant bruise. The pain is sharpest in his cheek and shoulder, but the gentle hand in his hair is comforting.

“I am proud of you, Will,” Hannibal whispers next to his injured cheek.

The hand in his hair moves lower, brushing against the shirt soaked with salt water and blood. The stab wound bleeds sluggishly.

“I’m not sorry,” Will responds; his eyes still closed.

“I know.”

The kiss comes as an expected surprise, but feels like finally. His eyes blink open, seeing a slice of the dark sky behind Hannibal’s wet hair, and flutter closed again. Hannibal’s lips taste salty and Will opens for his invading tongue.  
Will pulls Hannibal closer and tries to find breath between the hard kisses. The wet sand sinks a little under their combined weight and Will imagines it sucking them in and closing over them, the water licking at his feet bursting in and drowning them, unwilling to let them go.

“Will, may I…” Hannibal manages between the kisses.

“Yes,” Will breaths against Hannibal’s lips.

Skilled hands get his belt open and pull his soaked clothes down.

“I imagine we will find sand in interesting places tomorrow,” Hannibal smiles. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything to use as lubricant, so this will likely hurt.”

“I know,” Will says and opens his legs.

The first finger barely stings, but when Hannibal pulls his legs up and breaches him, Will can’t help the pained gasp. It distracts him from the fire in his shoulder.

Hannibal moves like the waves, a tsunami washing over him and drowning him. Will pulls Hannibal’s head down to breathe him in and feels the wetness on his own cheek. The waves break against them.

Hannibal’s breath hitches against Will’s neck as he releases. He sinks onto the sand next to Will. They look at each other and Hannibal smiles. He wipes Will’s cheek carefully and grips his neck, pulling him into a kiss. The sand sticks to Will’s bare skin and wet shirt.

Will falls asleep half on top of Hannibal, the position awkward because of their wounds. He dreams of blood and shadowy antlers.

\---

Will wakes up shivering and Hannibal pulls him closer. Their lips are cold.

“We need to get up. We don’t want to risk hypothermia,” Hannibal says.

Will kisses him and pulls until Hannibal turns on his stomach. The wet fabric fights back, but Will gets Hannibal’s legs free and pushes them open.

“Will,” Hannibal says like a prayer when Will moves over and inside him.

Hannibal feels like fire, burning the impurities in him and leaving only the scorched steel. Will grips Hannibal’s hair and pulls, biting the pale flesh on his neck. The sand scratches his knees with every thrust and the wound on his shoulder has reopened. Hannibal’s hair is wet and cold when Will presses his face into it.

\---

It takes them too long to climb with frozen limbs, but they find shelter. Will watches Hannibal’s agile fingers as they stich his wound. The fire burns his cold skin and the blanket feels strangely soft after the coarse sand. Hannibal’s antlers draw their dark silhouette against the fire when he pushes Will down to devour him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Please be gentle; I haven’t written fic in years. I just couldn’t let this one go unwritten.
> 
> I was listening to Love Crime on repeat when I wrote this.


End file.
